Eight years was long enough for an entire city to transform beyond recognition.
Outside the vast floor to ceiling windows of the CEO’s office at the top of the Xie Group headquarters, the skyline of S City stretched endlessly, a forest of steel and glass gleaming under the sun. Light filtered through the spotless panes, outlining the cold, rigid figure seated behind the desk like a sculpture carved from stone.
Xie Shiyan wore a perfectly tailored black suit, paired with a matching shirt. Every detail was immaculate, his collar buttoned with precision. The absence of a tie only made his presence feel more severe, almost ascetic.
His head was lowered, his attention fixed on the documents spread before him. A fountain pen rested between his fingers as he signed page after page, each stroke firm, controlled, and without hesitation.
Across from him, Zhou Yanze sat quietly on the sofa, waiting.
Time had tempered Zhou Yanze as well. The traces of youthful impulsiveness were gone, replaced by a calm, restrained composure. Yet whenever his eyes rested on Xie Shiyan, a faint, unspoken worry lingered beneath the surface.
Eight years had passed.
Ever since the day Xie Shiyan coughed up blood and collapsed in front of Jiang Yining’s tombstone, only to be dragged back from the brink, something in him had completely changed.
The boy who once laughed easily, who knew warmth and tenderness, had disappeared.
In his place stood President Xie, a man who seemed to have lost the ability to feel.
He worked like a machine, precise and tireless, pushing the Xie Group from its early beginnings to the very top of H City’s corporate world. It now ranked among the leading companies, its name firmly planted among the elite.
Wealth and power came easily to him.
His appearance had not changed, if anything, it had grown sharper, more striking, drawing attention wherever he went. Yet that same presence carried a coldness that kept people at a distance.
There had once been a bold secretary who tried to climb into his bed through underhanded means.
She was carried out of the building with broken limbs.
After that, every assistant and secretary around him was replaced with men.
His parents watched as he passed thirty, while his old friends, Zhou Yanze and Lu Jingshen, had already married and started families. Their anxiety grew day by day.
They arranged introductions, one after another.
None of them ever saw his face.
Each time, the response was the same.
“I’m busy.”
When his parents pleaded, when his friends tried to intervene, his answer never changed.
Silence.
Or a colder reply.
“Stay out of my business.”
The last document was signed.
Xie Shiyan closed the folder with a quiet sound and finally looked up at Zhou Yanze.
His eyes were deep and still, like frozen water. There was no emotion in them, only a silent, endless fatigue.
“Move forward with the East City project as planned,” he said.
His voice was low and even, without the slightest change in tone.
Zhou Yanze nodded and took the file. “Understood.”
He hesitated for a moment, his gaze lingering on the faint crease between Xie Shiyan’s brows.
“A-Yan, tonight… the usual place? Xiao Xiao and the others will be there. It’s been a while since we’ve all met.”
It sounded casual, but there was a hint of careful testing beneath it.
Xie Shiyan’s eyes shifted toward the window.
After a few seconds, his lips moved slightly.
“Mm.”
…
The VIP lounge on the top floor of Twilight was insulated from the deafening noise below. Soft lighting filled the room, accompanied by slow blues jazz, the scent of alcohol, and a faint trace of cigars.
Several familiar faces were already seated on the sofas.
Xiao Xiao had lost her earlier carefree energy. In its place was a gentle, maternal warmth as she leaned close to Lu Jingshen, speaking softly. He had an arm around her shoulders, smiling with quiet affection.
Shen Nianan remained as reserved as ever.
There were also new faces among them.
Jiang Yueyao, capable and composed.
And An Kexia.
She was dressed carefully, her makeup flawless, her eyes fixed on the door with undisguised anticipation.
Her feelings for Xie Shiyan were no secret.
For years, she had tried to get close to him, attempting again and again to melt the ice around him.
Xiao Xiao and the others had long since advised her to give up.
His heart died eight years ago, along with Jiang Yining.
But An Kexia refused to let go. She held on stubbornly, unwilling to turn back until she reached the very end.
Even Mrs. Xie had quietly approached Zhou Yanze and the others, sighing with exhaustion.
“Ningning has been gone for eight years… he has to move on. Someone needs to walk the rest of his life with him. Kexia is a good girl… maybe she can try.”
The door opened.
Xie Shiyan stepped in, Zhou Yanze following behind him.
The atmosphere shifted instantly.
He was still dressed in black, his presence heavy and distant. His gaze did not linger on anyone as he walked straight to a sofa in the corner.
He picked up a glass of whiskey that had just been poured and drank it in one motion.
The amber liquid slid down his throat.
Clean. Decisive.
An Kexia’s eyes lit up, admiration and hope shining openly within them. She wore a cream white dress tonight, a color she believed he might prefer.
Across the room, Zhou Yanze and Lu Jingshen exchanged a glance.
Xiao Xiao and Shen Nianan frowned slightly.
Zhou Yanze exhaled slowly, as if making up his mind. He picked up a glass and walked over, sitting beside Xie Shiyan.
“A-Yan,” he said, his voice cutting through the soft music, “drink less. You haven’t eaten.”
Xie Shiyan gave no response.
He poured himself another glass, swirling the ice slowly. The cubes knocked against the glass with a sharp, hollow sound.
Watching him, Zhou Yanze felt a long-suppressed frustration rise in his chest.
He glanced at An Kexia, at the hope in her eyes.
Then he thought of Mrs. Xie, worn down by years of worry.