“Lin Wan—”
A slightly rising tone was carried in by the night wind.
Carrying the lunchbox, Gu Ye followed closely, pushing open the courtyard gate.
But the courtyard was quiet—only the wind stirred the newly inserted shards of broken glass, making faint, tinkling sounds.
“Lin Wan.”
He called out, his voice sounding hollow in the night.
No response.
No familiar head peeking out from the house with a playful smile, as he had expected.
Sleeping early today?
His steps paused. The faint joy he had felt earlier from his cooking success suddenly flickered out like a candle blown by the wind.
Even the wind seemed to stop.
He quickened his pace, scanning the empty eaves of the house with a sharp gaze.
“Lin Wan?”
He raised his voice again, frowning without realizing it.
Still nothing—only emptiness.
Something was wrong.
A strange, needle-sharp unease suddenly gripped his heart without warning.
He yanked open the door and swept his eyes through the house—
The bed was neatly made, curtains hanging quietly. No familiar figure.
Not inside.
His breath caught sharply.
Had she gone out? Or… had something happened?
Countless chaotic thoughts raced uncontrollably through his mind: Who could it be? Wang Manli? Section Chief Liu? Or some unknown person? …
She was an outsider, unfamiliar with this place… where could she have gone?
He could almost hear the blood rushing to his head.
He turned and strode several steps toward the backyard, where the newly built toilet and shower were,
knocked on the door—no response.
He shoved the door open.
Empty.
His heart sank straight down.
A wave of panic and emptiness instantly overwhelmed him.
His hand gripping the lunchbox tightened unconsciously, knuckles whitening.
Who could it be? Right under his eyes?
Finally, he turned his gaze toward the corner kitchen, where yesterday’s chaos still lingered.
Inside, firewood was piled up, the lighting dim. There was nowhere to hide a person.
He stepped closer, scanning the space.
Even the last shred of hope was gone.
Gu Ye stood there, feeling as if all his strength had been drained in an instant,
leaving only a cold, indescribable sense of loss, and a heavy, urgent worry pressing down on his chest.
Without thinking further, he turned to go outside,
first to lock the mine gate, then to find someone…
His mind raced, analyzing every possible scenario.
At that moment,
a faint rustling of footsteps
came from behind him, from the kitchen door.
Gu Ye’s muscles instantly tensed as he spun around sharply.
“Bang!”
Lin Wan darted out from the narrow gap between the door and the wall like a nimble rabbit,
her face lit up with a mischievous, triumphant smile. She spread her arms to scare him:
“Let me see which busybody this is! Always so busy you don’t even come home—”
Her teasing cut off abruptly.
Because she met Gu Ye’s gaze.
Those usually calm, even indifferent eyes now churned with an emotion she had never seen before—
a lingering, deep fright, mixed with the confusion of losing and finding, and a barely restrained fury, almost ready to burst forth.
His face was pale in the dim night, jaw tense.
He simply stared at her, silent and heavy.
Lin Wan’s smile froze; her triumphant expression gradually faded.
Slowly, she realized the atmosphere was off.
He… wasn’t just scared by her prank.
“…Gu Ye?” she tried tentatively, her voice soft.
Still no answer.
He merely gave her a long, almost forceful look, his gaze so complex it made her heart skip.
Then he looked away, roughly shoving the lunchbox he had been clutching into her arms.
The aluminum box retained the warmth of his hand, even slightly hot.
“Eat.”
He dropped the words stiffly, not looking at her, and turned to walk back inside,
his back rigid, moving almost hurriedly, as if afraid he might lose control if he delayed.
Lin Wan held the heavy, warm lunchbox, standing in place, watching his clearly unsettled back, then glanced down at the lunchbox again.
Her mind replayed the image of his wide-eyed, unsettled look from moments ago…
One thought, slow to arrive but sharp, struck her clearly:
Earlier… he had been scared? Scared she was missing? Or scared she might be in danger?
Or maybe… both?
The realization made her chest feel lightly burned.
Her previous pride and mischievousness had vanished, replaced by a strange, soft emotion, as if soaked in warm water.
Along with unfamiliar guilt and a touch of nervousness…
She looked at the lunchbox, then up at the door that hadn’t been closed, pressed her lips together, and followed him.
Inside, Gu Ye stood with his back to her at the table, holding a water glass, seemingly about to pour,
but his movements froze, as if struggling against some invisible force.
The dim kerosene lamp outlined the tension in his shoulders, as if he hadn’t fully come back to himself.
Lin Wan walked in and gently set the lunchbox on the table, making a soft clinking sound.
Gu Ye’s shoulders twitched slightly, but he didn’t turn around.
The room was silent, only the faint sizzle of a faulty light.
Lin Wan cleared her throat, voice softer than usual, cautiously testing:
“Um… are you mad?”
Gu Ye didn’t respond, still holding his stance.
She circled to his side, noticing his tightly pressed lips and lowered lashes, still holding a trace of lingering resentment… and… a barely perceptible hint of grievance?
She startled at her own thought.
Gu Ye… feeling wronged?
Still, she softened her voice and tried to explain:
“I… I was just looking for something in the kitchen. When I heard you come back, I wanted… to play a little joke on you, since you never like coming home.”
Her voice grew smaller as she spoke, realizing the joke might be ill-timed.
It wasn’t always like this—the first time he had been scared away by her teasing. This time, she was just a little late.
She had only acted on a whim,
never expecting Gu Ye to react like that.
…
Finally, Gu Ye moved.
He put down the glass, turned his head, and his gaze fell heavily on her face, deep and complex like a well,
making Lin Wan’s heart skip a beat.
“From now on,” his voice hoarse, carrying a suppressed emotion,
“don’t hide.”
“Don’t let me lose you.”
It wasn’t a command, but more like… a request tinged with lingering fear.
Lin Wan stared at him, instinctively nodding: “…Okay.”
Seeing her unusually obedient reaction, the wild storm of emotion in Gu Ye’s chest seemed to finally find an outlet, slowly settling down.
Forget it, there’s no need to argue with her.