So warm…
It felt like soaking in warm water.
Mo Han opened his eyes. His vision was very blurry, and amidst the night scenery, he saw Bai Ziyan’s face.
His eyes reflected dancing flames, and a fine, golden mist surged around his entire body. The firelight cast a thin layer of gold over his cheeks, and his eyelashes were dotted with tiny specks of gold, as pretty as a shimmering, rippling lake.
“May your journey through reincarnation be peaceful, may you be healthy in your next life, and may you be spared all the hardships and sufferings of this world…”
The voice beside his ear seemed muffled, as if separated by a protective cover, vague and unclear.
Such a strange perspective, as if looking up from below.
Was he dreaming?
Drowsiness washed over Mo Han once more, and he closed his eyes again.
Bai Ziyan woke up right as his alarm went off.
However, he clearly hadn’t slept very well this night, and the culprit forcing him to rub his temples as he got out of bed was already sprawled out all over the carpet, sleeping in a completely uninhibited posture.
Bai Ziyan squatted down beside the cow-patterned cat, feeling both exasperated and amused as he poked it, then reached out to nudge its tongue, which was hanging out of its mouth.
The cow cat, which had spent the entire previous night raving and partying, slept like the dead. It completely lacked the vigilance a feline should have, and wasn’t even willing to wake up enough to pull its tongue back in.
With no other choice, Bai Ziyan could only pick up this lump of cat-mochi and carry it back into the cat room.
Standing in front of the mirror, he brushed his teeth and washed his face while feeling puzzled. Back abroad, although the cow cat would occasionally scamper around at night, it had become well-behaved and quiet after returning to the country. Why had it started partying all night long again last night, and even more noisily than before?
That little rascal had leaped down from the cabinet last night, acting like a severe case of ADHD. Not only did it cause a huge ruckus, but it also jumped onto him several times. Although it didn’t hurt, being forcefully shocked awake by such a heavy impact was practically a nightmarish experience.
Still, the saying that all cow cats are little lunatics had some truth to it; perhaps the little guy had just suddenly started acting crazy last night.
Bai Ziyan shook his head and lowered his face to rinse. He cupped cool water into his hands and splashed it onto his face, the icy sensation driving away the lingering drowsiness.
His movements suddenly paused.
He belatedly raised his head and looked at himself in the mirror.
Could it be that the cow cat had never disturbed him at night in the past because “someone” was keeping it company and playing with it?
In the morning, Duan Cang sent Bai Ziyan a good-morning message out of habit.
He put down his phone, flipped through the documents in front of him, then closed them, tilting his head to ask his assistant, “Has he gone to the villa?”
The assistant lowered his head. “No.”
Duan Cang frowned, his motions of flipping through the pages turning somewhat irritable.
Listening to the rapid rustling sound of paper turning, the assistant lowered his head even further.
After a moment, hearing the noises Duan Cang was making quiet down, the assistant tentatively asked, “President Duan, do you need me to go and check on Young Master Mo’s whereabouts?”
“No need.”
Duan Cang gave a flat refusal.
He said coldly, “There’s no need to ask questions like that in the future.”
“Yes, President Duan.”
The assistant practically buried his head down to the level of his shoes.
“Get out.”
Soaked in cold sweat, the assistant stepped out of the office and happened to see Assistant Li. A spark of hope flashed in his eyes, and he rushed over as if he had found his savior.
“Chief Assistant Li!”
Seeing the junior assistant’s expression, Assistant Li didn’t need any further explanation. He briskly assigned tasks to the other assistants, then shouldered his folder and walked up to the door of Duan Cang’s office.
Even having worked by Duan Cang’s side for years, facing a Duan Cang whose imposing aura grew stronger by the day still made him somewhat chilled.
He knocked on the door, and upon receiving a “Come in,” he pushed the door open and entered.
Drawing upon his years of administrative experience, a single glance at Duan Cang told Chief Assistant Li that President Duan’s mood today was terrible, and it was best not to provoke him.
In fact, Duan Cang’s current state had lasted for more than just a single day.
Ever since he was discharged from the hospital, visibly, he had grown more irritable day by day.
Assistant Li harbored a guess in his heart, even though the guess seemed utterly absurd—
President Duan was looking forward to Mo Han’s appearance.
… It was simply too absurd, so absurd that it was almost laughable.
What kind of person was Mo Han? To put it nicely, he was the second young master of the Mo family and Duan Cang’s pursuer; to put it bluntly, he was merely an illegitimate son treated as a substitute.
The person Mo Han was a substitute for was the Bai family’s proper second young master, someone so outstanding he could only be looked up to, holding an extremely high status in both the business and artistic circles. On top of that, he was Duan Cang’s childhood sweetheart the white moonlight he had waited ten years for.
The two of them were completely incomparable.
Originally, this substitute farce should have ended right there: the substitute leaves in dejection, and the male lead and the white moonlight live happily ever after, just like the ending of every fairy tale.
Yet for some reason, Duan Cang suddenly started caring about that substitute.
“President Duan, these are your schedule and the auction documents for this week.”
Assistant Li respectfully handed the folder over to Duan Cang. Watching Duan Cang accept it with strained patience, his gaze sweeping past the irritability at the outer corners of his eyes, his heart suddenly skipped a beat.
He remembered that earlier suspicion of his, which he hadn’t even been able to confirm as true or false.
Fortunately, although Duan Cang was somewhat distracted, he had always taken his work seriously. His efficiency in processing documents was as high as ever, which secretly allowed the assistants to breathe a sigh of relief.
Today’s schedule was light. By the time Duan Cang walked out of the company, the sun was still hanging in the sky.
In the past, at a time like this, he would have contacted Bai Ziyuan to arrange a date, but today, he suddenly wanted to go home and take a look.
The home he referred to, of course, wasn’t the place that witnessed his estranged parents tearing off their masks, but rather the villa he had bought with his very first earnings the place where Mo Han used to live.
Thinking of Mo Han, his grip on the steering wheel tightened, then loosened again.
When Mo Han was still around, he hadn’t liked coming home.
Even though he knew Mo Han would have already prepared meals and stood by the window waiting for him.
At first, he would still return on time, but as time went on, he did so less and less.
After finishing work, even if he had no scheduled plans, he would always call up three or five friends to go to bars, street-race, or party. Coming home early like today felt like something from a very long time ago.
Duan Cang opened the front door to absolute silence inside. At dusk, a house without its lights turned on always carried a sense of chaotic, stuffy gloom.
Duan Cang frowned and reached out to turn on the lights.
The illumination brightened the entire villa, and he felt slightly satisfied. Yet once he walked into the kitchen, his frown returned, and he began to irritably ponder why he had come straight home.
Clearly, Duan Cang didn’t know how to cook. He stared at the clean yet empty kitchen at a complete loss, and ultimately had no choice but to call his regular restaurant and have them deliver food over.
Duan Cang sat cross-armed on the sofa, the hunger in his stomach making him increasingly restless.
Back when Mo Han was around, as long as he was at home, Mo Han never let him feel any discomfort. No matter what time he came back, various kinds of stomach-soothing porridge were always kept warm in a pot, ready for him to eat the moment he wanted it.
Going hungry inside his own home this was a first-time experience.
For the sake of peace and quiet, this villa wasn’t very close to the downtown area, and the food would take a while to arrive. Duan Cang looked around the villa, suddenly feeling as though the interior had become somewhat too spacious.
Could it be that Mo Han had taken something that didn’t belong to him when he left?
Duan Cang stood up and began walking around the villa.
This villa was a symbol of Duan Cang finally breaking away from his family of origin. Every piece of decoration had been personally selected by him to celebrate his new birth, and even during his busiest periods, he had never outsourced it to anyone else.
The decor of this villa was what he considered the embodiment of a “home,” while Mo Han was merely the most important decorative piece inside it.
After Mo Han moved into the villa, he had once flown into a rage because Mo Han moved a vase; after all, decorative items didn’t need self-awareness they only needed to submit to his matching arrangement.
Yet Mo Han was, after all, a living human being, so unconsciously, the towels hanging in the bathroom turned into two, the toothbrush mugs in the washroom became a pair, and the slippers by the entrance turned into two rows.
Mo Han used his own presence to quietly patch up all the details Duan Cang hadn’t bothered to consider.
And this decorative piece had indeed been as obedient and submissive as he imagined. After living there for a long time, he had never moved any objects around, never altered the house’s layout, and even upon leaving, used a single backpack to take away every trace of his past existence. Thus, this well-maintained villa looked as though it had never had a second resident, reverting entirely to how it looked seven years ago.
Though he had merely removed items that hadn’t initially belonged in the rooms, the entire villa suddenly seemed to have become cavernously empty.
Duan Cang walked down the hallway, the irritation in his heart burning fiercer and fiercer, like a fire blazing in his chest.
He took a deep breath and pushed open door after door, not even knowing what he was searching for.
Until he reached the dust-covered utility room.
This utility room was originally meant for storing his sports car models and repair tools. Later, when Mo Han was together with him and occasionally stayed overnight at the villa, it became Mo Han’s workshop.
Next to that wide workbench, Mo Han used to meticulously weave one piece of artwork after another. His pale white fingers winding around emerald bamboo strips and golden grass blades possessed a breathtaking sense of beauty.
Duan Cang walked inside.
The raw materials Mo Han used were extremely fine and fragmented, making it very easy for scraps to scatter everywhere. Even though Mo Han diligently cleaned up after every session, it was inevitable that an occasional blade of grass or tiny scrap of wood would be found in the corners.
Yet this time, the utility room was startlingly clean.
Before leaving, Mo Han had taken away every trace he had ever left behind.
To clean it to this extent, who knew how much effort it must have taken.
The Mo Han who had previously abandoned his dignity just to stay by his side seemed utterly resolved to leave this time.
Clearly, this was something he should have been happy about. Yet for some reason, Duan Cang felt the fire in his chest burn even hotter.
How dare he? How dare he?!
Before, no matter what was done to him, he would cling like a plaster bandage, and now he was leaving just for a long-haired beast?!
Furious, Duan Cang didn’t even care that the wooden shelves held his precious sports car models; he kicked out savagely, causing the solid wood shelf to shudder slightly.
Accompanied by the slight rattling sound of the models, a small grass-woven grasshopper tumbled out from somewhere.