The young man said calmly,
“And I’m his boyfriend now.”
All three of them knew this was a lie.
It made An Zhihan want to laugh.
“Boyfriend?”
“I’m guessing you don’t even know each other’s names, much less what the other likes.”
An Zhihan shook his head with a smile and said to Bian Xun,
“Young man, I understand your good intention to help, but this really is a private matter between me and him.”
“I won’t hurt him.”
“Young man?”
Bian Xun raised an eyebrow.
“Your manners don’t seem as good as you make them appear.”
Or was he jealous?
Bian Xun lowered his head and looked at the young man in his arms.
Afraid that Bian Xun might really stop helping him, Yan Mo quickly pulled free from An Zhihan’s grip and shrank closer to Bian Xun.
He whispered,
“You and I have already been divorced for two years.”
“Why is it impossible for me to have found someone else after two years?”
“And he really is my boyfriend.”
Although he was an ex.
“His name is Bian Xun. He’s a player from Team TKG, a four-time champion esports jungler. He’s… he’s really amazing!”
Yan Mo gathered his courage and glared at An Zhihan.
“Bian Xun likes cilantro but doesn’t like green onions.”
“He likes noodles. For rice, he only eats millet.”
“Other than competitions, he doesn’t care much about anything.”
“He’s 184 centimeters tall and weighs 71 kilograms.”
“He hates sweets and sour foods the most—”
Yan Mo’s voice trembled.
Staring at An Zhihan, whose expression had suddenly changed, he was so frightened he could barely breathe.
“What right do you have to say we don’t understand each other?”
“…”
“…”
After the gentle rabbit lost his temper, everything fell silent.
Bian Xun suppressed his surprise and began considering the possibility that this young man was one of his fans.
Meanwhile, An Zhihan, who had originally found the situation amusing, could not help but believe their relationship a little after Yan Mo listed so many details without hesitation.
Two years.
Indeed.
After two years apart, anything was possible.
An Zhihan’s heart ached faintly.
He pressed his lips together.
Unwilling.
Angry.
Hurt.
At the same time, he felt somewhat at a loss.
He had never once considered the possibility that Yan Mo had moved on from their marriage and found someone else.
So for a moment, An Zhihan truly didn’t know what to do.
And the sight of Yan Mo obediently held by another man pierced deeply into his heart.
Seeing that An Zhihan no longer stopped them, Bian Xun held his unfamiliar boyfriend by the shoulders and walked toward his room.
As he swiped open the door, Yan Mo had yet to sigh in relief when An Zhihan spoke from behind him in a low voice.
“Yan Mo.”
“Do you hate me that much?”
“…”
“So much that in order to start over, you didn’t hesitate to get plastic surgery.”
“You didn’t hesitate to fake your own accidental death.”
“…”
Did I hurt you that deeply?
An Zhihan thought.
The young man’s appearance was completely different from before.
Aside from plastic surgery, An Zhihan could think of no other explanation.
And the reason Yan Mo had gotten plastic surgery…
It must be because he hated having a face identical to Yan Fei’s.
Because An Zhihan had treated him as Yan Fei’s substitute.
Because he had looked through innocent Yan Mo and seen someone else again and again.
Because he had hurt Yan Mo repeatedly throughout their marriage.
Because he had scolded Yan Mo.
Telling him that aside from having the same face as his older brother Yan Fei, he could not compare to Yan Fei in any way.
Blow after blow.
Insult after insult.
He had hurt Yan Mo so deeply that Yan Mo destroyed his own face and life just to begin again.
Yan Mo no longer wanted to share Yan Fei’s appearance.
He no longer wanted to be anyone’s substitute.
“It’s not like I chose to look like him.”
An Zhihan remembered what Yan Mo had said on the day he proposed divorce.
With tears in his eyes, Yan Mo had looked at him and whispered,
“My name is Yan Mo.”
“I’m not Yan Fei.”
“I don’t want to be treated as him at all.”
Back then, An Zhihan had only found it ridiculous.
If he hadn’t resembled Yan Fei, how could the young man have received so many benefits?
How could he have taken advantage of so much?
If he hadn’t resembled Yan Fei, how could the young man have received so many benefits?
How could he have taken advantage of so much?
An Zhihan clenched his hand tightly.
Turning around, he looked at the young man’s thin back.
His eyes stung.
Only now did he finally understand what a beastly thing he had done to someone who had sincerely loved him.
He had driven Yan Mo to this point.
“I’m sorry…”
That apology was filled with genuine regret.
Yan Mo was stunned when he heard An Zhihan apologize.
A few seconds later, he lowered his head.
“I know you don’t want to face me right now.”
“But I won’t give up.”
“Yan Mo, give me a chance…”
“Give me a chance to pursue you again…”
The hotel room door closed, separating them.
Through the narrowing gap, An Zhihan’s expression was one of firm resolve.
Click.
The person who had escaped danger finally breathed a sigh of relief.
Yan Mo hadn’t expected An Zhihan not only to apologize, but also to say he wanted to pursue him again.
Compared to feeling hurt or wronged, Yan Mo’s first reaction was confusion.
Was something wrong with An Zhihan?
Hadn’t he already married Yan Fei?
Besides, Yan Mo’s mission had clearly failed back then.
Why, after the bad ending, would the target who hated him suddenly pursue him relentlessly?
As for An Zhihan’s desire to win him back…
Yan Mo had indeed once loved him.
Carefully.
Cautiously.
Chasing after him.
Back then, Yan Mo could not treat a living person and such a realistic world as nothing more than a mission or game.
He had also been captivated by An Zhihan’s excellent appearance and mature temperament.
He had believed they would spend their lives together.
Yan Mo had truly loved An Zhihan with the intention of spending forever with him.
However, that love had already transformed into pain and confusion after repeated setbacks.
Lowering his head, Yan Mo thought somewhat bitterly:
Why should I have to say “it’s okay” just because someone apologizes?
He didn’t want to forgive him.
Some of the things that man had said were so cruel that Yan Mo would remember them for the rest of his life.
Those days of being belittled.
Suppressed.
Having to read someone else’s face even just to breathe.
Endless emotional coldness.
He didn’t want to go through that again.
A person who had already been hurt once—
Even if the same person later offered them candy—
Would no longer dare to eat it.
“Sit for a while.”
A calm voice sounded beside him.
Yan Mo looked up at Bian Xun.
His low and sorrowful mood was interrupted.
Uneasy, he nodded.
“Thank you.”
“It’s nothing.”
The tall, lean young man went to pour water.
His long, fair fingers held the glass as he handed it to Yan Mo.
Fans often joked that his hands were a blessing for hand lovers, beautiful enough to admire for a year.
His fingernails were rounded and faintly pink.
But in Yan Mo’s memory, those hands were most vivid when they created miracles on the competition stage.
Again and again, igniting the entire arena with stunning plays.
Yan Mo took a sip.
The young man leaned against the table beside him and quietly watched him.
Just as Yan Mo was about to leave, Bian Xun reached out.
With those extraordinarily beautiful fingers, he gently wiped the edge of Yan Mo’s cheek and neck.
A cool sensation spread instantly through his body like an electric shock.
Yan Mo, who was drinking water, choked.
“Pfft—cough, cough, cough!”
He coughed badly and stared at Bian Xun in horror.
The young man’s expression remained calm.
He turned around, pulled out a tissue, and handed it to him.
His eyes stayed fixed on Yan Mo’s face as he said,
“So you really got plastic surgery, Yan Mo.”
Yan Mo: “…”
Bian Xun seemed completely unaware of the storm his words had caused inside Yan Mo.
Lowering his eyes, his long eyelashes cast shadows.
“So.”
“Did you marry that man after breaking up with me?”
“Or before?”
Yan Mo: “…”
Was this what people meant by escaping a tiger’s den only to fall into a wolf’s lair?
One disaster after another?
Yan Mo set down the glass and stood, wanting to leave.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Thank you for helping me.”
“I’m leaving—”
Leave—
He couldn’t move.
Bian Xun tilted his head.
One hand firmly gripped the fabric at the back of Yan Mo’s shirt.
With the other, he lowered his head and took a cigarette from his pocket.
He bit one between his lips and lit it.
His loosely tied bun hung at the back of his head, with a few strands of hair falling free.
The flame illuminated his cold, pale, indifferent face.
Holding the stiff man in place, Bian Xun exhaled smoke.
Looking at the person breaking into a cold sweat, he said,
“Sit down.”
Yan Mo: “…”
Logically speaking, Bian Xun was only twenty-one.
He shouldn’t be afraid of him.
Bian Xun was eleven years younger than An Zhihan.
That’s right.
He shouldn’t be afraid of him.
Yan Mo silently sat back down while muttering inwardly.
“Where did you get the surgery done?”