Chapter 66: Nothing Much to See
The night sky was a tapestry of stars; the weather tonight was exceptionally clear.
Wen Yan and Pei Zhouye sat side-by-side in the courtyard on the mountain behind the hotel.
The biting wind of late November carried a frosty edge. Even though he was wrapped tightly in a thick wool blanket, Wen Yan couldn’t help but shrink into himself slightly.
The surroundings were deathly quiet, save for the occasional whistle of the wind brushing through the treetops.
A hollow corner of his heart seemed to be slowly filling up—a strange sensation of warmth blooming amidst the tranquility.
The lamplight fell across Pei Zhouye’s cold, aloof features. Wen Yan gazed at him for a moment.
“There’s nothing much to see,” Wen Yan said softly, averting his eyes. “The season has long since passed.”
“The season hasn’t passed,” Pei Zhouye replied, his voice carrying the chill of the night wind. “Even if the season is bad here, there are plenty of other places in the world. I’ll go with you.”
The promise was spoken lightly, yet with absolute certainty.
Wen Yan sniffled, likely feeling the cold. “Let’s go back.”
That night, Pei Zhouye did nothing.
As the person beside him fell into a deep sleep, Wen Yan’s beautiful features seemed veiled by a layer of mist in the hazy darkness of the room.
Pei Zhouye couldn’t sleep.
He was only a palm’s width away from being able to kiss him, yet what he truly desired seemed forever out of reach. Wen Yan was still unwilling to let him get close.
An insatiable greed gnawed at him.
Pei Zhouye stood up, his movements silent as he closed the door behind him.
Only after walking out of the bedroom did he pull out his phone.
Notifications were popping up incessantly. Shen Yao and Wang Shu had just finished a game. He clicked into a private chat with Wang Shu.
[Got a cigarette?]
[Wang Shu: Yeah. Brother, want me to bring them over?]
[No need. I’m heading out.]
The heating in the room was too high, making his head swim and leaving a knot of stifling frustration in his chest that wouldn’t dissipate.
As Pei Zhouye stepped out, Wang Shu was already waiting for him in the hallway.
Without asking questions, Wang Shu handed over a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.
“Brother, heading out for a smoke?” The usual unreliable smirk was missing from Wang Shu’s face. His tone was calm, and the air of a profligate playboy had vanished.
Pei Zhouye shot him a glance, which the other man met steadily.
“Yeah.”
Wang Shu said, “I’ll join you.”
It was nearly one in the morning. The standing lamps in the courtyard cast a stark white glow.
Pei Zhouye dangled a cigarette from his lips and flicked his thumb. Click. It caught fire.
He took a careless drag, the smoke blurring the silhouette of his profile. With a casual toss, the lighter landed squarely back in Wang Shu’s hand.
“Thanks,” he said, his voice low and lazy.
Wang Shu gave a soft chuckle. “I didn’t think Brother Pei smoked.”
The two weren’t particularly close. To be precise, within the entire elite circle of A City, the only ones who could claim any familiarity with Pei Zhouye were Shen Yao and Lin Seran.
Everyone knew the Pei family sat at the very top of the pyramid. Opportunities to get close to Pei Zhouye were few and far between, and for someone like Shen Yao who could get close, his family had warned him never to provoke the man. Rumors said Pei Zhouye was ruthless and moody—and some of those rumors were grounded in reality.
Pei Zhouye hadn’t had much private contact with Wang Shu before; he only remembered him as a young master who spent his days and nights carousing with Shen Yao.
Now, there was an added layer of scrutiny in his gaze.
“I quit.” Pei Zhouye’s voice was muffled as he sat casually on a stone bench, legs bent. Despite his low posture, his aura remained undiminished. “What kind of cigarette is this? It’s quite unique.”
A clean, pure bitterness swirled on his tongue.
If this were back when he was studying abroad—during the period when he smoked the most—he probably would have become obsessed with this flavor.
“Custom-made. I’ve got the supply for the rest of the year at my place. I’ll have someone send them over to you when we get back.” Wang Shu’s tone was flat. He looked down at the glowing red ember at his fingertips and suddenly laughed. “Shen Yao says they taste terrible.”
Both men were lost in their own thoughts.
Pei Zhouye looked up at the stars in the night sky, thinking of what Wen Yan had said.
Indeed, there wasn’t much to see.
He didn’t think the stars were particularly beautiful either; he was simply satisfied being with Wen Yan.
“Get some sleep. We have to wake up early tomorrow to see the sunrise.”
Pei Zhouye stood up. As he passed Wang Shu, a hint of pity actually flickered in his eyes.
He patted Wang Shu on the shoulder, his tone unreadable.
“Everything is possible in dreams. You haven’t had it easy either.”
Shen Yao had gone through more girlfriends than one could count on both hands. He wasn’t serious about his relationships, but he had absolutely zero interest in men.
Pei Zhouye remembered a time when a man who was very close to Shen Yao confessed to him. Shen Yao had been so furious he got into a fistfight with the guy and never spoke to him again.
Perhaps because of the comparison, the frustration blocking Pei Zhouye’s chest actually cleared quite a bit.
Wen Yan didn’t get to see the sunrise.
In the middle of the night, he developed a high fever. Pei Zhouye had the driver move the car immediately to take him down the mountain.
The discomfort was so great he couldn’t open his eyes. His head felt like it was splitting open. Wen Yan felt as if he had fallen into water again, his entire body soaked.
However, the freezing lake water from when he was seventeen had turned into scalding, boiling water, burning him until his whole being was scorching hot.
Someone was calling his name repeatedly in his ear.
A familiar, cold scent pressed against him, and Wen Yan caught a rare moment of clarity.
He struggled to open his eyes and saw a pair of deep, dark eyes filled with tension.
“Pei Zhouye.” Wen Yan felt like even his eyes were hurting. He was likely pressed into Pei Zhouye’s arms, his body devoid of strength.
Without waiting for Wen Yan to say another word, Pei Zhouye pulled him a bit tighter. “I’m right here. It’s okay, we’ll be there soon.”
Delirious with fever, Wen Yan pressed his palms against Pei Zhouye’s chest and gave a weak push. His voice was thick and clingy. “Hot…”
Pei Zhouye stiffened for a second. With a silent sigh, he finally placed Wen Yan on the seat beside him.
“Turn the AC down.”
The driver in the front seat acknowledged the order and glanced in the rearview mirror.
In the back seat, Pei Zhouye was using a stack of company documents to fan Wen Yan. His movements were gentle, as if he were handling something precious.
The driver’s breath hitched, and he pressed down on the accelerator.
A high fever comes fast and leaves just as quickly.
When Wen Yan opened his eyes again, he felt refreshed, and the aches in his body had vanished.
It felt like a dream.
He propped himself up to sit, only then noticing Pei Zhouye asleep beside him, leaning his head against his hand.
The sharp, predatory edge of his aura had softened considerably. With his high bridge and superior features, he looked like the kind of popular figure one would find on a university campus.
It was like this again—the first person he saw after waking up sick was Pei Zhouye.
Wen Yan extended his index finger, hovering it a few centimeters away from the space between Pei Zhouye’s brows. He paused for several seconds.
Pei Zhouye was technically his peer, but no one would ever look at him and think he was just a student.
To be so young, yet hold such a high position without a hint of being out of place.
Wen Yan withdrew his hand, his fingertips unconsciously rubbing the edge of the blanket as if trying to wipe something away.
The events of the past six months were truly too chaotic.
“What are you thinking about?”
The sudden voice made Wen Yan flinch.
The man who had been fast asleep just moments ago had opened his eyes. They were bloodshot as he stared at him.
Wen Yan answered honestly, “I was thinking about everything that happened these last four months.”
“Don’t think about things you don’t want to remember,” Pei Zhouye said expressionlessly as he stretched his wrist. He clearly knew who Wen Yan was actually thinking about.
Wen Yan had fallen into a high fever twice, and both times it was because of Gu Yulan.
Pei Zhouye felt that Gu Yulan hadn’t received the retribution he deserved.
For someone to harm so many people and simply sit comfortably in prison instead of dying… it wasn’t enough.
Wen Yan watched as Pei Zhouye’s gaze grew darker. He reached out and grasped Pei Zhouye’s hand.
“Don’t think about things you don’t want to remember.”
He threw the same words back at Pei Zhouye.
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