His heart tightened suddenly. Shi Ye asked impatiently, “What was that incident?”
Yan Xi chuckled lightly. “That question is over.”
Shi Ye spun the bottle almost immediately, desperate to regain the right to ask.
“How many times have you done something out of character?”
Even though he knew it was shameless, Shi Ye still wanted an answer. Yan Xi looked surprised; he had expected Shi Ye to follow up on what the act actually was, rather than asking for a count. Still, he answered honestly: “Once.”
The bottle spun like a roulette wheel of fate, stopping at Yan Xi once more.
Shi Ye asked, “Do you regret that one time?”
This time, Yan Xi’s silence lasted longer than ever—so long that Shi Ye thought he would not answer at all—before he spoke slowly. “To be honest, yes, I regret it.”
A chill washed over Shi Ye, as if he had been doused with ice water.
“What I regret is not being more careful at the time.” Even through his pajamas, the tension in Yan Xi’s shoulders was visible.
Perhaps it was the atmosphere of the evening, or perhaps Yan Xi had suppressed his feelings for too long; before Shi Ye could ask again, he began to speak on his own. “I regret that I made such a decision on a momentary impulse. Not only did I hurt myself, but I may have also hurt someone else.”
Shi Ye sat motionless, staring at the steam floating in the air, his emotions dark and obscure.
Everything was in disarray. His original plan had been completely derailed. He had intended to use the next round of the game to summon the courage to reveal the truth, but now, he hesitated. He dared not imagine Yan Xi’s reaction if he discovered that the person he had shared such a reckless night with was actually him. Would Yan Xi be shocked and angry? Would he hide away and sever all ties with him?
None of those outcomes were what Shi Ye wanted. Two voices argued within him. One told him to be brave and confess the truth to Yan Xi, while the other warned that doing so could destroy the relationship they had painstakingly built and cause Yan Xi to leave him forever. When he spun the bottle again, his hand was noticeably less firm.
The bottle neck pointed at Shi Ye himself.
It was Yan Xi’s turn to ask. He rubbed the back of his neck, pushing aside the chaotic thoughts, and asked, “Xiao Ye, have you ever kept anything from me?”
A deathly silence followed. Yan Xi had killed the game, but he remained blissfully unaware. Shi Ye stood up, switched off the hot pot, and laughed with forced casualness. He said they should stop playing, as the game was boring, and that he was off to wash the dishes—honoring the dare from the first round.
In reality, once inside the kitchen, Shi Ye felt drowned by a tide of panic and unease. Even though it was just a game, Yan Xi had been sincere, frank, and guileless. He, on the other hand, felt like a despicable villain; even his name was a lie. Stuck in an impossible position, Shi Ye did not know how to resolve the deadlock, so he could only steel himself and wait for a suitable time and way to reveal the truth.
The next morning, Yan Xi yawned as he walked out of his bedroom.
Shi Ye had not gone for his morning run, and there was no aroma of breakfast coming from the kitchen. He stood at the bedroom door, dazed for two minutes, before remembering that Shi Ye was returning to school, had taken leave, and would no longer be staying here often. Standing in the empty room, Yan Xi felt unaccustomed to the silence, and an indescribable feeling rose in his heart. It felt a bit sour.
Sighing, Yan Xi headed toward the bathroom, lamenting that habit was truly a terrifying thing.
With Shi Ye gone, the shop was as deserted as ever. Yan Xi opened his computer and began refining the sketches he had made the day before. He polished every line and shadow, striving to perfect the character’s form, attire, and expression. Back when he was in school, he had been obsessed with an anime. Because it was too obscure, there were no official peripherals, and he had seen fan-made merchandise that was truly unbearable to look at. As a result, Yan Xi had designed his own mouse pads, fridge magnets, postcards, and even figure models. During the process, he would occasionally post videos to share his work online. Although the circle was small and niche, the fans were enthusiastic and would chase him daily for content. Later, due to the pressure of his studies and work, he had less time to draw or design and gradually drifted away from the community, losing touch with the fans who once followed him.
Years later, once again immersed in the world of creation, Yan Xi rediscovered that long-lost feeling. After finalizing the original art, he opened the software he had bought years ago and began building a 3D model. He constantly adjusted the proportions, details, and pose. As the model gradually took shape, the better part of a day slipped away quietly.
Then came the critical modeling stage. Yan Xi did not have a 3D printer, so he used the most primitive method: molding it himself. He started by building a skeleton with aluminum wire, then layered air-dry clay over it. Knitting needles and scrapers were all brought into play, and finally, he used a craft knife for intricate carving. Time ticked away, and the sky began to darken, but Yan Xi had no intention of stopping. By the time the shaping was completely finished, it was well past closing time. He carefully packed up his tools and the semi-finished product to take back to his apartment.
Having eaten nothing all day, his stomach felt uncomfortable. Yan Xi opened the cupboard, took out milk and oatmeal, mixed them, and popped them into the microwave. After finishing his dinner in five minutes, he wiped his hands and returned to the living room. Everything that had been on the coffee table had been cleared away, now covered with a variety of tools and materials. Yan Xi sat on the rug, placed his phone aside, and hit record. Then, he took a deep breath, adjusted his posture, and began a new round of creation.
Outside the window, the night was heavy like thick ink. Inside, the light was soft and the room was tranquil. The tool in Yan Xi’s hand glided over the figure, emitting a faint scratching sound. He polished it with total focus, as if nothing existed in the world but him and his work. The polishing process was long and arduous, draining both time and energy. As the night deepened, the dust pad looked battered, but the figure underneath was brand new.
Then came the painting stage. Although he did not have model paint, he had acrylics. He skillfully blended the colors, applying them with fine, deliberate strokes.
The ink-black sky gradually began to fade, and the streetlights still gave off a dim, yellow glow. A few chirps of birds drifted up from below, breaking the silence of the dawn.
Finally, the last stroke was completed. Yan Xi released his grip and slumped backward, leaning his head against the sofa cushion. His body was stiff, and a wave of fatigue crashed over him. He slowly closed his eyes, filled with satisfaction.
Ten hours earlier, YK Company conference room.
President Shi, who had been absent for many days and working remotely, was back. The senior executives arrived one after another, and Shi Ye was already sitting in the boss’s chair at the end of the long table. Today, he wore a solid black shirt that looked crisp and sharp. His hair was combed neatly, and his gaze was sharp and formidable, making people afraid to meet his eyes.
Once everyone had arrived, the conference room was eerily quiet, save for the sound of Shi Ye flipping through documents. Under his hand lay the company’s project data. He had already read these documents once before, but today he pulled them out again, carefully reviewing every detail, as if he did not intend to miss a single thing. Everyone’s eyes were fixed on Shi Ye; no one spoke, and no one dared to urge him along.
After reading the final page, Shi Ye put down the folder expressionlessly. He looked up, scanning the room with varying expressions in an unhurried manner. Some people slowed their breathing; others exchanged glances.
“Do not be nervous. Let us just chat.”
Shi Ye leaned back in his chair, wearing a casual smile, and inquired slowly about the progress of the new projects. The department heads in charge stepped forward one by one to answer. Then, Shi Ye shifted the topic and asked casually, “Who is the direct person in charge of the offline concept store project?”
The simple question caused the atmosphere in the room to turn tense and subtle. Ma Zhiming’s heart skipped a beat; it had finally come. He sat up straight, cleared his throat, and reported with a look of difficulty, “President Shi, the situation is this: the offline concept store project was directly pushed by the previous President Fang, so…”
He did not spell it out, but everyone understood the subtext: surely they could not go and hold the former president responsible now.
Shi Ye tapped his fingers lightly on the data without confirming or denying. Across the table, Ma Zhiming signaled to the project manager. The project manager took the hint and added, “However, the person who handled it at the time was the CEO’s assistant, Yan Xi. Moreover, the current operation of the store is entirely managed by him. Therefore, logically speaking, he should be the actual person in charge of the project.”
“So that is how it is.” Shi Ye’s face was calm, seemingly accepting this explanation.
Everyone had expected Shi Ye to use this as an opportunity to hold someone accountable; no one expected he had merely asked casually. He even ignored the issues listed in the report, such as budget overruns, high operating costs, and severely imbalanced returns. This hurdle had been cleared too easily, which left Ma Zhiming feeling uneasy.
Just before the meeting ended, Shi Ye landed a sudden blow:
“Regarding the offline concept store, you all said the person in charge is the former assistant Yan Xi. Then…”
His tone deepened sharply. “From now on, he will be fully responsible for this project. It will no longer be under the control of the Administrative or Project Departments; it will report directly to the CEO’s office.”
With that, Shi Ye glanced at the assistant beside him. “Did you note that down?”
“Noted.” Assistant Zhao Qingqing nodded, quickly adding the item to the meeting minutes.
Ma Zhiming could not believe his ears. The hot potato had been passed off so easily. He rejoiced inwardly while trying to maintain a calm expression. Hidden in the corner of his pursed lips was pity, sympathy, and a touch of undetectable gloating. From now on, no matter how much loss the project incurred or which link was deemed responsible, it would not implicate him; Yan Xi would have to bear the full responsibility alone. He could walk away completely unscathed.
The meeting went smoothly and met its expected goals. Shi Ye tapped the tabletop with satisfaction, closed his folder, and said, “Meeting adjourned.”