Si Yuan returned home very late.
Her stomach felt hollow, having only consumed a cup of coffee that afternoon. It ached slightly now, and the hunger made her chest feel unsettled.
Curled up on the sofa, she planned to order takeout. As soon as she opened the app, she saw Song Yan’s recent social media post.
Lin Shuangyu stood before a fitting mirror in her wedding dress, with Song Yan’s figure faintly visible in the reflection.
She stared at the photo for a long time before finally giving it a quiet like.
Just as Si Yuan set her phone down to prepare for a shower, it suddenly rang again.
The characters “Song Yan” flashed across the screen.
Si Yuan’s hand froze mid-air. She considered pretending not to see it and walking away.
But the ringing persisted stubbornly.
Worried he might have an emergency, she answered, “Hello, Brother?”
“What are you doing?”
Song Yan’s voice was deeper than usual, tinged with a hoarse, weary laziness.
“Getting ready to rest.” After a moment’s thought, Si Yuan added politely, “Sister-in-law’s wedding dress is beautiful. You have good taste.”
There was a brief silence on the other end.
“Lin Shuangyu insisted on using my phone to post that.”
Si Yuan didn’t understand why he was explaining this. It wasn’t unusual for a fiancée to post on her partner’s social media.
Song Yan’s tone was somewhat distant, his words drawn out, sounding off.
He suddenly asked, “Do you like that kind of wedding dress?”
Si Yuan froze, finally detecting the drunkenness in his voice. Their mother was strict—Song Yan never touched alcohol.
“Brother, where are you? I’ll ask Sister-in-law to pick you up—”
Before she could finish, there was a sudden knock at the door.
Si Yuan assumed it was her takeout, surprised it had arrived so quickly.
Rubbing her aching stomach, she went to answer the door.
The moment it opened, Si Yuan stood frozen, her phone still pressed to her ear.
Jiang Wang stood outside, wearing a loose black knit sweater, raising an eyebrow at her.
He carried food containers in both hands.
Seeing her stunned expression, Jiang Wang frowned and cut straight to the point, “What are you staring at? Time to eat.”
With that, he strode directly into the apartment.
On the phone, Song Yan seemed to sober up instantly. He asked slowly, “Whose voice was that?”
“It’s… it’s the delivery person.”
Then she abruptly hung up.
Jiang Wang paused, glanced back at her, and smirked without saying a word.
He muttered to himself with a roguish grin, “Yeah, I’m the delivery guy…”
Jiang Wang opened the food containers, laying out each dish one by one.
The aroma filled the room.
Si Yuan recognized it—this was her favorite private kitchen from their student days.
Since starting antidepressants, her sense of taste had dulled, and she’d long lost interest in food.
But now, the long-forgotten fragrance washed over her, along with her beloved Jiu Niang Yuanzi. Her stomach betrayed her with an audible growl.
Jiang Wang was bent over, arranging the dishes.
The sleeves of his black sweater were casually rolled to his elbows, revealing well-defined forearms. He handed her a pair of chopsticks, “Want to try?”
Si Yuan didn’t take them, instead staring at his prominent knuckles, “You… what does this mean?”
Jiang Wang paused and looked up at her.
“You haven’t eaten, and neither have I. We live so close—can’t we share a meal?”
Share a meal?
Si Yuan’s eyes widened in disbelief.
“Or are you afraid your brother will find out your delivery guy is this handsome?”
Si Yuan turned away, the tips of her ears burning faintly red.
“Not at all.”
Jiang Wang chuckled softly, withdrawing his hand as if nothing had happened, and picked up a piece of fish to place in her bowl.
A single word: “Eat.”
Si Yuan pressed her lips together, sat down, and obediently began to eat.
She stole a glance at Jiang Wang.
The warm yellow light of the restaurant fell on his brow bone, outlining his features with unusual gentleness.
He could actually have such a peaceful and warm side.
Outside the window, rain had begun to fall unnoticed, droplets tapping against the glass like a heartbeat thrown off rhythm.
The private room was hazy with smoke.
Song Yan loosened his tie, his knuckles gripping a yellowed paper bag.
Empty whiskey bottles lay scattered on the floor, condensation beading on the glass.
His phone lit up and then dimmed.
Ever since Si Yuan had inexplicably hung up on him earlier, his calls had gone unanswered.
In the past, before the first ring could even finish, he would hear Si Yuan’s clear voice on the other end calling out: Song Yan.
Song Yan!
Her voice was sweet.
That had been the only discordant note in over a decade of his disciplined, restrained life.
At first, he had thought about correcting this deviation.
But then he wondered—did his life really have to be so orderly and compliant, so predictable from start to finish?
Si Yuan was the sole exception.
The call still wasn’t connecting.
Had the little one’s temper turned so sour after going abroad?
Song Yan suddenly smiled, pulling out a photo of them together from the paper bag.
“Still angry? Not being good.”
She was becoming less and less obedient.
Going abroad and not contacting her brother for five whole years.
His friend Zheng Qinyun, noticing his preoccupation, set down his glass and moved closer. “You’re getting engaged soon. Do you know how you look, moping like this?”
Song Yan looked at him.
Zheng Qinyun said, “Like you can’t let go of your white moonlight!”
Song Yan closed his eyes and smiled, then opened them. “Go to hell.”
Zheng Qinyun laughed too.
Feeling puzzled, he took out his phone, muttering, “Why hasn’t Jiang Wang come? It’s been so long since we all hung out.”
“Busy with business, probably,” someone else chimed in. “Out of all of us, he’s the most impressive, right? Took over as second-in-command of the group right after graduation, and his grandfather was a chief in the capital. He was never on the same level as us from the start.”
Zheng Qinyun nodded. “I’ll give him a call. If I can get on his good side, maybe he’ll look out for the Zheng family in business later.”
The phone rang for a long time.
It was hung up once in the middle.
But Zheng Qinyun, thick-skinned, was determined to get him to come.
Finally, the call connected.
“Hello?”
“Big shot Jiang, Ah Yan’s about to get married. Didn’t we say the guys would get together tonight?”
Jiang Wang’s voice was cold. “Busy.”
“Heh, busy with what?”
There was a slight pause on the other end.
Jiang Wang sat on the sofa, his gaze slowly drifting across from him.
Si Yuan was bent over her food, eating earnestly.
She sat cross-legged on the carpet, a small, soft figure, her cheeks puffed out adorably with a single meatball.
“Busy… delivering takeout.”
With that, he hung up again.
Zheng Qinyun was still frozen, trying to process it.
Everyone looked at him, asking what Jiang Wang had said.
Zheng Qinyun shrugged. “He said he’s delivering takeout!”
They were all baffled.
Only Song Yan opened his eyes, his clouded gaze gradually clearing.
He remembered Si Yuan saying earlier that it was a food delivery at the door.
“Where is he?”
Zheng Qinyun: “He didn’t say.”
It couldn’t be.
How would Xiao Yuan know Jiang Wang?
And how could Jiang Wang possibly be with Xiao Yuan?
These two people… were simply from two different worlds.
Song Yan sat back down again, sinking into a long silence.
He felt that this time, he seemed to be constantly developing all sorts of absurd thoughts whenever it came to matters related to Si Yuan.